


I Just Thought You Were Cute

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Late at Night, M/M, One Shot, Tumblr: imagineyourotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:44:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ian admired the rare image of his boyfriend being all cute and sleepy, curled up against the cushions of the couch, before carrying him bridal style to the bedroom"</p><p>--- Person A of your OTP picking up sleepy Person B and carrying them to bed and Person B just snuggles their face into Person A’s shoulder</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Thought You Were Cute

Ian looked at his watch, a yawn breaking out on his lips, it read 2:17am on the Saturday morning. The streets were quiet, for mostly everyone they were probably asleep. Ian had just left the diner he had started working at, his hands were sore from working orders all day and he just wished the cab home would be quicker so he could just hardcore-cuddle with his boyfriend.

Once the cab pulled up outside his and Mickey's apartment block, Ian pulled out a couple notes and thanked the cab driver. With a quick wave to the driver, he walked into the apartment block – seeing the landlord on the way, he stopped and smiled tiredly.

“Busy at the diner tonight, Ian?” He asked, shocked to see Ian home so late.

Ian nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you know how Friday nights are.”

The landlords English accent scoffed before him. “Poor lad, well tell that fucker of a boyfriend I said Hi.” He asks Ian, who nods like everyday. “And tell him to stop making fucking poptarts at three in the morning!” He called after Ian as the redhead took to the stairs.

“Okay, no pop-tarts. Got it. Doubt he’s up at this hour though,” mumbled Ian, waving his hand off as he climbed the stairs, his legs waiting to buckle.

After climbing the stairs up to the tenth floor, he made a right, heading toward room thirty four. He unlocked the door, struggling with the shitty key Mickey nearly fucked up, opening it as silent as possible, before stepping inside. Muffled noises were heard from the living room, it sounded like the old movies they usually watched – or, yes, it was Van Damme. He headed over there to find a sleeping beauty in his mist.

Mickey was sprawled out on the couch with his mouth slightly ajar and light snores coming out, his hair was splatted against his face, one strand in-front of his right eye. One hand was hanging off the couch while the other was holding the remote to her chest protectively. Ian admired the rare image of his boyfriend being all cute and sleepy, curled up against the cushions of the couch, before carrying him bridal style to the bedroom – knowing Mickey would be too tired to protest- turning off the TV on the way, he grinned towards his boyfriend who shifted against the lack of noise.

Suddenly, Mickey clung to his shirt, mumbling some things into his chest, wiping his nose against the grey fabric of Ian's work shit. Mickey adjusted himself in his arms, snuggling into his shoulder, giving it a kiss gently, lips slowly formed into a smile.

_Fucking dork._ Ian thought, his hands tight underneath Mickey's legs and arm. Kissing Mickey's forehead he smiles into the jet-black hair.

Suddenly he heard him mumble, “ _I love you_.” He paused. Mickey had only ever said it once, they made it clear they didn't need to hear it all the time. Was he talking to him or in his sleep? When did Mickey ever fucking talk in his sleep? Mickey slowly opened his eyes, looking straight into Ian's, the pupils dilate and for a moment Ian guessed Mickey would jump out of the hold and most likely kick him in the shin. Instead, he broke out into a smile before laying his head against his shoulder, chuckling sleepily.

Ian felt his heart warm, he walked through their small apartment of two years with his boyfriend careful in his arms. Kicking the door open, he feels Mickey's kisses against the top of his collar bone. Ian couldn't resist but say it too. “I love you too.”

Then he swore he heard Mickey mumble, almost incoherently, “ _Fucking sappy balls.”_


End file.
